The buildings around them empty -- fast. The street becomes a ghost town.

No one gets hurt. Not even bruised. That's when a SWAT campaign goes right.

But that's not what happened in Easton on May 18, 2008, when the Southwest Regional Emergency Response Team, a SWAT force of top cops from Easton and four surrounding towns, stormed Ronald Terebesi's Dogwood Drive home searching for drugs.

In the confusion of detonating flashbang grenades that emit bright, blinding light and a loud explosion that disorients those in earshot, one of the officers became confused. He thought he'd been hit. And he shot Terebesi's friend, Gonzalo Guizan, six times, killing him. Guizan was unarmed; no gun was found.

"Certainly, this is not the result anyone would want," said Lt. J. Paul Vance, spokesman for the Connecticut State Police, whose Major Crime Squad division investigated the Terebesi raid because a SWAT team officer killed Guizan. With a well-organized team, Vance said, "the left hand always knows what the right hand is doing."

Both Guizan's family and Terebesi filed federal civil rights lawsuits against the five towns involved -- Easton, Monroe, Trumbull, Wilton and Darien. Guizan's family reached a $3.5 million settlement last week with the five towns. Terebesi's lawsuit still looms. The five towns have defended themselves by claiming their SWAT officers did not use excessive force or violate either man's constitutional rights.

"State Police have two SWAT teams that are available 24 hours a day to assist any city or town who asks for our assistance," said Vance. "Our teams have had extensive training, and they are made of troopers who have been together a long time. They've trained closely with one another, and have a strong rapport."

From the get-go, the raid on Terebesi's house in Easton was a bad one.

Prior to the operation, at least two police officers expressed reservations about using force to execute a search warrant for mere drug possession, court records show. They thought Easton Police Chief Jack Solomon was rushing too fast; they feared for the safety of youngsters attending a party across the street.

The officers knew that an organized bicycle marathon was going on that day. It was a busy day in Easton, despite its reputation for being a quiet Fairfield County outpost with high taxes and next-to-no commerce.

"In general, when you have a tactical unit with police from more than one jurisdiction, you're more likely to have problems arise than when people who are training are from the same department," Haberfeld said. "That's because they know each other better. They operate with the same subculture and pattern of behaviors."

During the six years the 21-member team in the Easton SWAT group had been together, court documents show, none of the officers had ever used a flashbang while serving a search and seizure warrant.

"The intent of flashbang is to cause a loud, smoky distraction that confuses the suspect and allows the SWAT unit to reach them using minimal force," said Michael Jenkins, a professor of criminal justice at the University of New Haven. "One of the ways police are trained as to how to expect a suspect to respond to pepper spray is by having it sprayed on them during training. The same philosophy holds true for SWAT teams using flashbang," he said. "Someone in this demanding, high-pressure line of law enforcement ought to have some experience before a raid as to what it's like when those go off."

Worse yet, court records show, the officers who put their lives on the line that day were given bad information by Easton police.

The investigators relied on the word of a confidential informant, an exotic dancer who didn't provide her real name, that Terebesi and his friend were doing drugs all night long. The dancer claimed she felt it was her civic duty to report their drug use.

She also professed she never did any drugs, a statement that even the officers who wrote her words down found hard to believe, judging by her bone-thin appearance, glassy eyes, dilated pupils and decaying teeth.

"A SWAT position is a badge of courage that demands extensive training, agility, marksmanship," Jenkins said. "It's a high-stress position that requires the ability to assess a situation and make swift decisions. Lives depend on it. Regardless of whether the informant is a drug user or a Ph.D., their information needs to be corroborated."

There was no effort to confirm the informant's statement whatsoever, records show. Had police probed, they would have learned the self-described exotic dancer had a rap sheet that included drug charges and harassment, and only three months earlier had received a two-year probation instead of a jail sentence.

None of these additional details were ever made known to the judge who signed the searach warrant.

From the dozen-plus depositions reviewed by Hearst Connecticut Newspapers, it is evident that members of the SWAT team were misled in several fundamental ways. They were told Terebesi was armed and dangerous, and had guns in the house. They were warned that he might shoot to kill -- especially if a feather on the head of his prized macaw, "Sapphire," was ruffled.

Easton's police chief had no reason to suppose that Terebesi, who had a valid pistol permit, would open fire.

Terebesi, 46, had never exhibited any violent tendencies toward law enforcement. He was respectful when police arrived at his home to check on his wellbeing in response to a prior medical call. In another incident at his home, he had previously allowed police to search the premises for anyone who might be injured after someone blew five shotgun holes in his house, shattering a front window and a side window near where he often slept.

The shotgun blasts were the breaking point for some of Terebesi's neighbors.

Among them were a former first selectman, who had appointed Solomon police chief. They neighbors formed an association and demanded action from Solomon to deal with their neighborhood scourge.

They claim he shattered their sense of peace and tranquility on the winding block of immaculate and well-kept houses. Terebesi's transgression: having visitors at odd hours for short periods of time, smoking marijuana, and hours before the police raid allegedly smoking crack cocaine in a glass pipe with Guizan.

And unlike many SWAT operations, no one warned Terebesi's neighbors that armored convoys would descend on their quiet, woodsy street in broad daylight.

No one there had ever seen anything like the phalanx of paramilitary officers, bristling with guns, who used a battering ram to smash down the door at one end of the house while flashbangs went off at the other, climaxing in a hail of bullets that killed the 33-year-old Guizan.

Police were there to search for a small quantity of drugs and to seize anything in the house where a box the size of a breath mint container and two glass pipes might be hidden.